God Rest Ye Merry Hippogriffs
by MyPhoenixLament
Summary: If Fred and George start singing one more time, I'm going to hex them. Or, I would, but seeing as we're not at Hogwarts, I can't. It's quite tempting, though... It's week before Christmas in HBP, and Ginny has nothing better to do but write in her diary.
1. Paper Chains

**Chapter one:  
Paper Chains**

**The Burrow  
10:17 a.m.**

If Fred and George start singing one more time, I'm going to hex them. Or, I would, but seeing as were not at Hogwarts, I cant. Its quite tempting, though, so I wouldn't mind being expelled just to shut them up for a bit.

Now, don't get me wrong. I love the twins to death. It's just... they're the twins. They're really useful, though, despite their - er - Fred and Georgeness. This morning, for example, devious little buggers that they are, taught me just how valuable they can be.

I sent them into the kitchen to torment Ron. And Harry. (But mostly Ron.)

Did I mention that Harry's here? Ha ha! Well...

Harry

Is

Here.

There. Now I've told you. Not that you care, seeing as you haven't got any emotions. (And I know that for a fact, because I've had Dad check.)

Anyway, moving on...

Apparently, you've got to be really tolerant to be able to stand growing up as the only girl in a household of boys. Which is true, but not in the way that most people think. One would expect them to beat the mickey out of me, but my family isn't like that. Especially the One We Do Not Speak Of (The prick!) And Bill. And Charlie. And Ron. And the Twins. They're all quite protective.

Maybe Harry, too.

But that would make him like a brother.

Which is bad.

Really bad.

Because you're not supposed to fantasize about snogging your brother.

Which I do.

Only, about Harry and me.

I am disgusting.

And obviously, I have problems focusing, seeing as I _can't even finish telling my lovely story of revenge._

Bugger.

But as I was saying, before I was so rudely interrupted by, _hem hem_, my own thoughts...

Fred and George cornered me as soon as they spotted me, which was right after wed floo-ed home, so I was still brushing ash from my shirt when I saw two identical shadows looming nearby. It's rather frightening, you know, to be minding your own business, when suddenly everything goes all dark. Bit unnerving.

I stared at them for a bit, hoping to scare them off like Mum does - How _does_ she do it? - except that it didn't seem to affect them.

"Little sister," Fred smirked.

"Welcome home," continued George

"How's Dean?" they asked, and grinned. They know I hate it when they do that. (I suppose that's all the more reason for them to do it.)

I rolled my eyes. "I'm not the _only_ one dating, you know. Ron's got himself a girlfriend."

Ha ha! That was all they needed. I swear, they would have made me their leader or something right there had Mum not told them to sod off. (Only, nicer than that.) Pity.

"Ickle Ronniekins has got himself a-a what?" George clutched at his chest in shock. (I'm sure he was faking it, but with them, you really can't tell.) "Do my ears deceive me, Fred?"

"I do believe she's right, George!"

"Now, tell us, Gin..." he began.

"Who exactly..." added Fred.

"The unfortunate girl happens to be."

"Well," I smirked triumphantly. "'Won Won'" happens to be dating Lavender Brown. It's a bit disgusting, really." I shuddered, just for good measure.

"Well, if you'll excuse us, dear sister..."

"We'd best be off!"

Fred patted my head sympathetically and exchanged a look of glee with his twin, who then strode into the kitchen in sync to the other. I don't understand them, really, but as long as they get to Ron, I don't care.

I wonder if I'm sharing a room with someone this year? Usually, it's Hermione, but since she's not here... Mum mentioned something about Lupin staying with us. Coming tomorrow, I think. But that would be weird. I'm off to ask Mum.

**The Attic  
10:30 a.m.**

No.

I refuse.

I will _not_ stay with Phlegm!

I can't believe that Mum would do this to me! She hates her as much as I do! Probably more, even! I take back what I've said about not staying with Lupin. I reckon he's better company than that wretched... thing.

Fleur'll be delighted, though. More time to critisise everything about my appearance. Either that, or she'll babble on about Bill. It's not as though I care (or listen to her) seeing as I already know how great he is.

How could I not?

Oh, God, she's going to talk about the wedding, isn't she? I know she will.

Thus, I am doomed.

**The Attic (still)  
11:56 a.m.**

I'm just going to stay here. Harry and Ron haven't come up yet and kicked me out, so it seems I'm safe for now. I had to leave my post for a few minutes, though, to ask Mum for some paper and scissors. And paste. (I would have asked Dad, seeing as how he likes to keep those sort of things around, but he's still at work.)

You see, I've decided that the best possible way to avoid Phlegm is to have an excuse to do so. Not that I care if she thinks Im hiding, I'm sure Mum would love to do the same. Otherwise, she would've rooted me out to help her with cooking.

With Phlegm.

So I'm going to decorate the living room. With paper chains.

**The Hallway outside F and G's room  
12:33 p.m.**

It turns out that Fred and George did NOT, in fact, torment Ron about Lavender. They weren't given the opportunity. That means Mum was probably there. I don't blame them, though. She's so tense at the moment (I suspect I know who's behind it) she'd have murdered them.

Damn, the twins are coming!

**The Attic  
?**

That was close.

But I think I'm going to die now, because I had to run all the way. I wish I had my broom, then I could have flown. And so I'm too exhausted to even hold the stupid bits of paper, much less write.

Plus, I've got paste on my finger.

You'd think that there would be an easier way to make a paper chain besides the way that muggles do it.

Oh, wait. Well, of course there is, but that takes magic. Which I can't use for the same reason I couldn't hex Fred and George. I wi

I've got to hide you. Someone's coming.

**The Attic  
12:25 p.m.**

Oh, it's just Ron. Ha ha, he looks funny. He's just staring at me. WHAT IS HE STARING AT ME FOR? I'm staring back at him now. Maybe he'll go away.

"Ginny, what're you doing here?" That's what hes just asked me.

Now he's looking at me even odder. Odder? Is that an actual word? I'm not sure it is. Sounds rather like otter.

"Ginny?"

Me? Is there something wrong with sitting on Harry's bed in the midst of an enormous mound of discarded paper and an even more enormous chain of red and green?

I've just relayed this to him. But it sounded really stupid when I said it aloud.

He's just gaping at me.

"Is there something you need?" I don't care if I'm being rude. He's the one intruding.

I think, anyway.

If I was here first, doesn't that make him the one that's not supposed to be here?

Right?

"This isn't where you're staying."

That's a bit obvious, isn't it?

"I know."

He's still staring at me like I'm some sort of freak.

"Ginny, why're you writing down everything were saying?"

Damn! We've been discovered...

**The Attic  
12:39 p.m.**

Apparently, Ron still doesn't understand why I'm here. Hiding. Maybe it's that part he doesn't get, seeing as the stupid prat likes Phlegm. As in, he can actually stand being in the same room as her without wanting to slowly throttle himself. And her. Better her than Ron, though, if I had the choice.

I've just got him to leave. He might be getting reinforcements. Maybe Harry. But then I'd really have to leave. I should try locking the door.

**The Attic  
12:41 p.m.**

Ha! They can't get in unless they find F and G or Mum or Bill (is he even here? I haven't seen him) or Fleur (ooh, _shudder shudder_).

I wish Hermione was here. And maybe Tonks, too. Then I'd have some company that is actually alive. (Not that I want you to be alive, thank you very much!)

That's really the only reason I'm writing you, is because I'm all alone. I've been abandoned by everyone except the twins, who have their own problems to deal with that don't involve me. I feel so slighted.

**The Attic  
4:00**

I'm surprised that my fingers aren't bleeding. I've been at this paper chain business for three hours already. And I've just begun to realise that Harry and Ron will need the attic back at one point, seeing as they've got to sleep. At least, Harry's got to sleep. I don't care about Ron.

Well, seeing as one bed's free, Ron can stay here, and Harry can share my room. He's definitely preferable to Phlegm. She can sleep on the floor.

I'm sure Mum won't put up a fuss. (Phlegm will, though.)

Wait, why can't she share a room with Bill?

Wait, no.

Bad idea.

Bad Ginny.

Bad mental images.

**The Attic  
4:03 p.m.**

Oh, God, they're going to have children, aren't they!

**Living Room  
?**

Phlegm has gone with Bill somewhere. Fred and George have disappeared. Mum is cooking. Harry and Ron... Oh, who _knows_ where they are! Obviously, I don't.

So, once more, I am left alone. But it's quiet.

Which I like, to some extent.

Mum is coming.

**4:08 p.m.  
Kitchen**

Mum's cookies are really good...

**My Room  
11:15 p.m.**

I am going to have to get rid of her somehow. I don't know how exactly, but she is NOT staying in my room. Ever. Again.

You see, I was right. All she wanted to do was talk to me about 'ze wedding'!

"What do you theenk of thees?"

"What should I do for zees?"

"Zis will be so 'ery lovely!"

She's drivng me mad! Of course, YOU had to go and get yourself spotted by her! We were nearly discovered, and it was all your fault!

No, actually, it's Hermione's fault, seeing as how she deserted me in a house full of boys and some sort of French monster that isn't even human. (And Mum, of course, but I don't mind her.)

I should have forced her to come with us. Just shoved a bit of floo in her hand. Luna would've agreed to anything.

Why didn't I think of that before?

Curses. I need sleep.

Ooh! I got to sit next to Harry at dinner! Well, it's not exactly as though he had a choice about it, seeing as Mum arranged the seating.

I have a suspicion that she knows, as well as Fred and George.

How I feel about Harry, that is.

Is it really that obvious?

Damn. What am I going to buy Harry for Christmas?


	2. Nicking Knickers

**Chapter Two:  
Nicking Knickers**

**The Attic  
12:15 p.m**

I've barricaded the door again. They'll never get in, unless by reasons mentioned before, which I don't care to repeat. Really, though, they'll never get F and G to agree to do it. They know I'd murder them.

Or at least try.

No, no I wouldn't. Not worth my time, you see.

Because we've already been through this.

Round and round we go!

I'm bloody dying up here out of boredom, because after locking myself in, I neglected to remember to bring something to do. I think I'll make more chains.

**3:04 p.m.  
The Attic**

Obviously, you've noticed that I'm still here, and did not die as I thought I might three hours ago. Of course, three hours ago, I had just woken up. Really, you'd think someone might have come up to see whether or not I was still alive, seeing as I slept in so late. Mum must be out.

Somewhere.

Perhaps.

**3:06 p.m.  
The Attic**

Er, no, so Mum is in fact still here. She's just forgotten about me like everyone else.

My fingers are actually bleeding onto you, you know. And I hate paste. (Along with many things, I think.)

I'm fed up with being alone. I wish Harry was here to keep me company, but I don't know where he is either. Probably with Mum and Ron and the twins and _every other bloody person from this house!_

Calm, Ginny, calm...

Oh, God, what if they've left me here? I thought maybe they'd forgotten, you know, that poor Ginevra Weasley couldn't take it any more and locked herself in the room where the person she nearly stalked a few years ago happened to be staying. Perhaps it just slipped their minds, like an everyday sort of thing, that I _can't get out!_

Oh, yes... didn't I tell you? The door is stuck, or the lock or something. Not that it matters, because I still can't get out. I'll probably starve to death before then, either that or die of boredom. I think the attic is already starting to look darker. (Or lighter. Whichever one it is when you're about to snuff it.)

I mean, it could just be because it's really late in the day, but I'd rather be dramatic. What else am I going to do? Go through Harry's stuff?

Wait...

I'll be back in a moment.

**3:30   
The Attic**

Harry's got some peculiar things.

They're still Harry's, though. And I've stolen a pair of his knickers. Do you think he'll notice? I didn't think he was that perceptive...

I mean, he's not as thick as Ron, but Ron could best a boulder in that regard.

Anywho... moving on...

Harry's got an Invisibility Cloak! Bullocks, if I'd known that before... It's no wonder he gets around. I bet Ron and Hermione and him use it all the time. They (Hermione... and Ron) get to use his stuff whenever they want. (Probably.) I wish I'd thought of going through his trunk sooner.

Except, there was this disgusting-looking pair of socks... looked a bit like he'd trid stuffing them on some sort of elephant-like creature.

Or a whale.

A rather small whale...

Named Dudley?

Bloody hell, don't tell me he keeps that stuff!

Sick.

But he won't have to worry about them anymore, as I've stolen them too. Really, I think he'll be better off without them. See, because _I've_ got them, they can't possibly come to any harm, and I don't think he'd really care if they did...

He's got this weird thing, though, so I don't know what it is. It looks rather like it used to be some sort of mirror, (or at least, a part of one), and it's quite shiny. I stared at it for a bit, because it was a bit attractive. (Rather, I was quite attracted to it. It seemed to sparkle when I held it.)

Still, it was somewhat dodgy, as it had this unnatural fog about it. I can't explain it, but whatever it was (or was part of), it wasn't a muggle thing. Something magical, obviously. Really special.

But it's broken.

Stupid thing to do, break it. Rash. I bet it was worth loads. Not that I'd sell it, because it was Harry's.

(I'd keep it.)

Eh heh, no, actually I wouldn't nick it from him. I'd let him keep it. Poor Harry. He's been through quite a bit. I should give his stuff back.

Perhaps later.

Hold on...

Someone's come to rescue me!

**4:17 p.m.  
The Garden**

That was Harry. Seems they've been out all day with Fred and George. May have mentioned something about card tricks, but I wasn't completely paying attention to what he was saying. (Focusing elsewhere.)

The garden is now the only place I can go, because Harry needed to change, and I don't really want to face him at the moment. I think someone might have pushed him into the snow.

Oh. Right. That was me.

Me, you say? Yes, me.

I swear that it was a complete accident.

Harry opened the attic door like it wasn't even locked, so of course I hadn't had time to stuff all of his things away in their proper places. "Ginny, there-" he started to say, but stopped and began to stare a bit.

It might have been somewhat odd to find his stuff strewn all about the floor in the midst of what must be fifteen metres of linked paper. Well, apparently it was to him. I froze with my hand still on his knickers, (most likely) blushing violently.

"Er, hello Harry. Fancy seeing you here, eh?" I grinned. (Tried to, at least.)

"I'm staying here," he said slowly. "What're you... What're you doing?"

"Oh, y'know, just... looking for something... that fell... in here?"

He must have been awfully shocked, because he started shufflling his hand through his hair. "It must be important, then... if it's, her... Listen Ginny, d'you mind-"

I stared at him blankly. It isn't my fault, really, he just wasn't making any sense. Only, then I noticed that he was staring at my hand.

Or rather, what I had held in my hand.

"Oh, these?" I laughed, but considered vomiting on myself. I'm surprised the skin didn't just burn off of my face. "Mum wanted me to, y'know, collect the laundry..." I'm a bit of a genius, I think.

"Er, those... those are clean." He started to blush, which was quite, shall we say, adorable. (Or would have been, because I wasn't exactly thinking about that at that moment.)

"Oh, are they? I expect you'll be wanting them back, then." I laughed again, twitching slightly.

The thing was, I didn't actually _want_ to give them back.

So I didn't.

Which is how I eventually ended up pushing him into the snow.

I looked between him and the knickers for a moment, then bolted past him and down the stairs. I don't think he even realised what I had done right away, because, if I do say so myself, I'm quite fast.

He must fancy me mad.

After I'd got to the garden, he started to catch up. That frightened the hell out of me! I didn't actually think he would try and get them from me!

"Ginny!" That was Ron. Merlin! He'd got Ron! I hid behind the broomshed, still clutching you and the knickers.

"Bloody hell! She's got _what_?" Harry had just told him, most likely, what he was chasing me for. It's a pity Fred and George weren't there, because htye'd find this all rather amusing. Even I happen to find it amusing.

"I couldn't stop her! She just took off! She's gone mental, or something!" Poor Harry. He shall never understand. Even I don't understand why I cared so much about getting his knickers. Seems a bit stupid now, except that I've still got them, which is definitely longer than I expected to have them.

"Where d'you reckon she's gone?" Ron.

"I dunno. She could be anywhere." Harry.

Anywhere? No, not quite. They were right in front of the broomshed. I giggled a bit.

Which was a bad move.

"I think I heard something. I'll go look over here." Ron. Thank God he's so thick. I love my brothers sometimes.

"Right. I'll stay here then." I froze. "Ginny?"

I was found.

"Hullo again, Harry," I said cheerfully. H elooked at me strangely. "I think Mum really will want to wash these. You know how she is." I sighed for emphasis. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got to get going." I scooted toward my escape.

"Hold on. Your mum is in the kitchen, cooking. She's not doing laundry at all, and those _aren't dirty_!"

"Regrettably," I muttered. "Listen. Fred and George need them for something. New product, you know?" I scooted a bit more.

He wasn't buying it.

So, I ran again.

"Ginny!" Exasperation.

Somehow, he blocked my way into the Burrow. "Ginny, they're mine! Get some of Ron's if Fred and George need them so much!"

Now, _that_ is disgusting.

I wrinkled my nose. "Harry, I-- But Ron? I'm not going to go digging about for-"

"But you've no trouble taking mine."

Bugger.

So that was when he looked into my eyes and said, "Ginny, I love you. Marry me. Let's snog."

Only not. I wish he'd said that, though, because I would have said yes. And then we could have snogged for a bit, which I think would be quite nice. But we didn't. What actually happened was that I made to move past him, and I suppose it must have been a bit too forcefully, because he ended up falling into the snow.

"Harry!" I found it, sadly, nothing short of hilarious. "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to..."

Then, as I seem to have made a habit of doing, I dashed away, lwaving what must have been an incredibly stupefied Harry behind me. He _definitely_ must fancy me mad.

So here I am, in the garden. I thought if safe to emerge once Harry had gone back inside, and as Mum hasn't asked me to help cook, I think I'll stay. I don't think I'm ready to face him just yet, seeing as I've had my fill of awkward moments for the day.

**5:01 p.m.  
The Kitchen**

I'm supposed to be stirring soup. Mum called me inside, and in spite of my protests, I've been forced to remain here. I don't see why she can't just do it herself. I mean, if she wanted to, the soup could just stir itself. It isn't a bad idea to have food prepare itself. At least I know that I won't see Harry in here. Mum keeps everyone else out of the kitchen.'

I wish Dad was home. He promised that we would get a tree together. I hope that means without Harry and Ron. (I hope it's without Phlegm, too, but it's not even worth mentioning her, because I know Dad won't even consider it.)

Damn. Mum is coming back.

**5:58 p.m.  
The Kitchen**

The soup was great. I'm surprised it didn't burn.

**7:30 p.m.  
My Room**

My head is hurting, but I don't want Mum to give me any tonic for it, so I've told them all that I'm going to bed. Hopefully, I'll actually sleep so I won't have to listen to Phlegm when she comes up. Dad promised that we would find a tree tomorrow.

And I still don't know what to buy for Harry.


	3. Into the Woods

**Chapter Three:  
Into the Woods**

**5:00 a.m.  
The Kitchen**

I shouldn't even be awake right now. In fact, no one should, and it should be against the law to do so. But Dad says this is the best time to get a tree.

I'm still not quite sure how we're going to find one.

Seeing as it's rather dark.

I'd prefer if I could actually _see_ the bloody tree before we bring it home! I suppose it's to each their own. Dad's just like that.

Ooh, but Dad _did_ say he'd let me use magic. Apparently, the Ministry doesn't actually _know_ when someone underage--me--does magic in a large wizarding household--the Burrow.

Very, very sneaky.

Not, of course, that I hadn't already figured this out.

I mean, having Hermione as a friend has its perks, right?

Merlin, who am I kidding? (Besides you, obviously.) If I'd known that sooner, my brothers would have pig buttocks for brains.

Except for Harry, though technically he's not a brother.

So he's safe.

**5:45 a.m.  
The Forest**

I didn't even know we had a forest by the Burrow, but apparently we do, seeing as we're in it. (That sounded a bit stupid, didn't it? I suppose it would, but look who I've got for brothers. Well, except that Bill is brilliant, though not in his choice of women.)

I think there's some sunlight, though I could be mistaken.

Er, no, that's Dad's wand.

Bollocks, I really was hoping there for a moment. My wand isn't nearly that bright. Wonder why...

We've stopped to have a quick rest, because we've been walking deeper and deeper into this place which oddly seems to have never existed before.

Funny how that happens.

I don't even remember the tree last year. Did we even have one?

And where did we get it?

That's the important stuff.

Dad must think I'm mad for bringing you with me. He's been giving me funny looks for the last five minutes.

Now I know where Ron gets it, though I expect Dad doesn't look as stupid when he's confused. Ron must have come out wrong.

**?  
The Forest**

I have found a squirrel. I shall name him Eggbert. He's just staring at me, looking sweet. WHat a weeny thing, I want to touch it.

**?  
Somewhere in the Forest**

Eggbert is not in a good mood. He must have rabies or a wife that harps on him all day long. Stupid thing shouldn't even be out in the winter. I thought squirrels hibernated.

So now I'm all alone.

In the dark.

In the middle of a forest that shouldn't even be here!

I must be getting fat, or something, because apparently I couldn't keep up with Dad, and now I'm lost.

Perhaps it's just because I have short legs.

Which is slightly more comforting.

But not really.

I'd rather be fat and with Dad than alone with short legs.

Short legs that won't get me away fast enough if something decides ot come after me. Like maybe a Lethifold.

Merlin, even thinking about it makes me shudder.

Except, if Phlegm comes to rescue me, I think I'd rather brave the Lethifold. Because she makes me shudder, too.

Only, then I'd get eaten.

Which is rather disgusting, I think, though so is she.

**?  
Deeper into the Forest**

Shouldn't it be geting sunnier by now? You'd think it would, though I expect I've moved farther inot the forest. If the forest wasn't here before, then why did it appear now?

I think it knew I was going to get lost. That's the only explanation. It's doing this just to spit me.

Well, it won't work!

**?  
Somewhere else in the Forest.**

I'm getting bloody sick of this now! Where's Harry when you need him? He's always saved me before, now the one time...

Oh, right. He's still sleeping.

My rescuer is sleeping. HE doesn't even know I've left the Burrow. How could he? We don't share a room. (Though, I wish we did.)

I am going to die.

**?  
Another Place in the Forest**

I think I must have passed out. Good thing, too, because I've just remembered that if you're lost, you're supposed to stay in one place.

Oh well.

Actually, that seems a bit stupid. Because if there's a manticore about to run you through, and you're lost, wouldn't you run? I mean, it'll chase after you, but you can always get away.

Well, you can if you've got a wand. Muggles seem to have the worst of luch that way. The silly things haven't even got brooms or wings or anything. I don't know how they've survived this long, but I expect they'll be dying out soon.

**?  
?**

Hermione showed me a spell once. I think all you've got to do is put it in your hand and say 'Point me.' It'll point north.

I'll be home soon!

**?  
?**

Which direction is the Burrow? I don't think it's north, seeing as the stupid wand is pointing directly in front of me.

Perhaps it is.

Or not.

I think I'll go south. That seems to be the way I came. Or suppose I keep going north? I'll get out eventually, right?

I think I'll stick to going south.

**?  
Somewhere in the Forest, but South**

You'll never guess what I've found. I wish I could tell you that it's Dad, but it isn't. You see, my hero has come to me in the only form he could.

Unfortunately, Harry isn't here either. Just his knickers and his socks. I found them in my pocket. Somehow, that isn't much of a comfort to me.

**?  
Still South**

It's been at least an hour. Shouldn't they have found me by now? I don't think I'd mind if Phlegm is the one to save me.

And that's rather difficult to admit, seeing as it's, well, _Phlegm._

It's actually quite nice without her. Though I mean, I wish I was without her at the Burrow, and not here. REally, I'd be enjoying myself if I actually knew where I was. I should have stuffed it and stayed put. But, wouldn't it be quicker, you know, if we're looking for each other? That way, if we happen to meet...

_If..._

I, Ginevra Molly Weasley now know that if there is any amount of IF involved in anything at all, to stay away from it. Any uncertainty, and I shall refuse the thought.

IF the Dark Lord was posessing me...

IF Bill and Fleur get married...

IF falling from a broomstick might hurt a bit...

IF I tidy up my room...

IF I fancy Harry...

IF... What if Harry doesnt' fancy me?

You see where IF leads me?

**?  
A bit to the East**

I want to go home.

**?  
A secluded clearing**

I'm not going ot go anywhere else. I'm just going to stay here and hope that htis is where they look.

Actually, they'd be daft not to look her, seeing as I've sent up sparks. Stupid Ginny, not thinking of that before. IF I had, Dad and I would have a tree and be sipping hot chocolate in the kitchen, looking at it and forgetting this ever happened.

Why must everything happen to me?

I mean, not _everything_ happens to me _all_ of the time. It just seems like it whilst I'm on holiday. Rather ironic, really. We go to Hogwarts and nothing exciting happense. (Alright, there's loads of exciting things, but tht doesn't help my point.) And then we come here, to the Burrow, where nothing _usually_ happens at all, except when the ghoul in the attic is feeling particularly stupid. Except for now. I never used to get lost in forests or steal knickers or make paper chains or

Or find hot chocolate in the middle of the forest?

I'm being perfectly serious,and I am _not_ delusional.

(I hope not, at least.)

That must be the funny thing (though, not really) about going into a forest you know shouldn't exist--or any place, for that matter. You can't expect anything. (You can't _not_ expect anything? If I survive, I'll ask Hermione.)

Especially not food that wasn't there two minutes ago, when you know you didn't put it there yourself.

**?  
The Secluded Clearing**

Hermione would be thrilled. I've got to tell this from start to finish, exactly as it happened, because otherwise it sounds like a bunch of rubbish, and you'll think I belong in a mad house.

As you know, there was a mug of hot chocolate just sitting there at the edge of the clearing. Not doing anything, not dancing about or being sipped by someone,(namely me), but sitting with the utmost innocence about it. Of couse, I thought I was losing it. ('It' being namely my mind.) Wouldn't you? But anyway, I walked up to it, and gave it a good sniff.

Then I sniffed it again.

So that was when I started to wonder just what my favourite sort of hot chocolate was doing there.

(Well, I did wonder a bit before. I'm not completely thick.)

Mum makes it especially for me. Loads of chocolate with a bit of cream and peppermint. Normaly, I hate peppermint, (nasty stuff tastes a bit like tonic), but you've got to understand that there's a difference between the rubbish you're given for Christmas to put on the tree, and the way it tastes mixed with chocolate. (I imagine that's how Harry tastes.)

(Actually, if Harry _did_ taste like that, I expect I'd polish him off, and there'd be nothing left.)

(Which would be sad.)

(Moving on...)

So I picked up the mug, about to take a drink, when I realised that the handle was scalding. you know, like i'd jumped into a fire without bothering to put Floo Powder in it first. Which is also extremely stupid, though I don't doubt it's been done before. I suppose I'll have to keep an eye on Ron just in case.

So of course, I did the only logical thing there was to do.

I dropped it.

That was the single most depressing moment of my life. All of the hot chocolate was not splashed upon the front of my cardigan and onto the snow.

If you hadn't known it was hot chocolate, you would have found it disgusting. It looked a bit like someone had

Nevermind. On with the story.

I was staring at it in dismay, when suddenly a voice which sounded like a wheezing chipmunk said, "Will you be wanting another, Miss?"

I shrieked and scrambled backward as though it had bitten me. It was a bloody House Elf!

"Plinky is sorry for frightening the Miss," it said, bobbing its head. (Ah hah, that rhymes...)

I stared at it.

It stared right back, which is rather unnerving, seeing as it's got really large eyes, and they weren't blinking. (Slightly unnatural, I think.)

"Er..." It can't have expected anything more than that. All I'd seen for the past two hours was a disgruntled squirrel named Eggbert, who really, after some thought on my part, didn't look much like an Eggbert at all.

When if finally blinked, I felt rather relieved. I had thought perhaps I would have to watch its eyeballs dry up into its head as I sat there. "Miss, is you wanting another choclate? We is having lots more."

More? _We_?

"Um..."

It looked at me expectantly.

"Yeah? That, er... would be quite nice."

Of course it would be nice. I would get to meet more freakish elves who don't need to blink and live in the middle of a forest. Sounds wonderful. At least I knew I'd have chocolate.

I followed it (Plinky?) until we came to this rather large tree, which looked to be dotted with mushrooms.

Except, they weren't mushrooms. They were doors.

An honest mistake, right?

It turns out there's an entire colony of House Elves living there, inside of the tree. Merlin, there must have been hundreds of pairs of eyes (some were actually blinking) staring at me from the doors!

And then, they all tried to come at me with a whole manner of hot chocolates and cakes and sweets. All at once, mind you. One of them even had a wrinkly baby strapped to its back, (at least, I hope it was a baby), which was the ugliest thing I"ve ever seen. It's no wonder they keep the mums out of the kitchens at Hogwarts. I wouldn't want to bite into a sausage and suddenly find out that I've just decapitated a baby House Elf.

They were disappointed when I choe a mug of hot chocolate, that being all I had taken, so were only satisfied after they'd given me an entire cheesecake and a bowl of rice pudding. Then they all disappeared again, except the sausage baby and its mother. They stayed for a bit, and pressed something into my hands. I haven't looked at it yet. It's in my pocket.

I suppose it's a bit of a compliment to get so much food. They must think I'm underfed. I expect I must have short legs, then.

**?  
The Forest**

I've been found!

At least, I've found Dad.

I mean, I was found by a colony of House Elves first...

But that's beside the point, because I've been rescued! We are now in search of the perfect tree, though it hasn't got much lighter outside. I suppose the sun is entitled to sleep even if I'm not.

I've told Dad about he elves, and he just sort of blinked at me.

Well, I expect I must have sounded a bit odd and stupid when I said it. But I suppose since he was determined to show he didn't fancy me mad, he had me take him to where I thought the colony was.

And there was only a tree.

No elves.

Bollocks.

It was too good to be true.

DAd must be trying exceptionally hard not to run away from his loony daughter.

Which would be me, obviously.

This is spiffing.

I am now the lunatic of the Weasley family.

**7:59 a.m.  
The Kitchen (at last!)**

We've got the most bloody fantastic Christmas tree!

It is now sitting in the living room, where it should have been three hours ago.

Or something like that.

Surprisingly, (not), no one's up. All having a lie-in, even Mum.

Buggers, the whole lot of them.

I'm going to bed.

**12:26 p.m.  
My Room**

I've just woken up. Seems I'm not the last one to do so, seeing as I'm sure Harry and Ron aren't up. (Fred and George too, but that's rather obvious.)

I don't feel much like going to the kitchen, as I don't really want to see Phlegm at the moment. I expect Mum will understand.

**1:14 p.m. **

The Kitchen

It would seem that Mum did NOT understand, and decided to drag me downstairs for a late breakfast.

Well, everyone else was there, too, and it looked a bit like Fred and George were about to murder her for waking them up.

Or, they would if they weren't partially afraid of them.

They love her, though. Everyone does.

Me especially. Us femailes must stick together here.

Otherwise, we'd all go bloody mad.

Oh, wait...

Funny. It must not have worked, the whole sticking together thing.

**2:11 p.m.  
The Garden**

Bill has left with Phlegm for the rest of the day, and I"ve come out here to escape everyone.

Well, that andI can watch Harry play Quidditch from here.

I really wish they'd let me play.

Though, I imagine I'd get too distracted by watching Harry diving for the snitch (Fred and George nicked it before they left Hogwarts) that I'd fall off my broom.

I'd like to have a go on Harry's _Firebolt_, though.

**?  
A Cupboard**

I'm locked up in a cupboard somewhere. Didn't know we even had a cupboard large enough to hold someone my size.

Not, you know, to say that I'm exceptionally large or anything.

There's light coming from somewhere.

That's how I can see to write.

Obviously.

**?  
The Cupboard**

It would appear that the ghoul does not live in the attic anymore. (I was beginning to wonder where he went off to.)

Apparently, he lives in this cupboard.

At least I'm not alone in here.

Although, it keeps staring at me like it's a House Elf. I wonder if it knows something.

Do ghouls even _have_ brains? I should ask.

**?  
The Cupboard**

The ghoul really isn't so bad, though I haven't the foggiest what he was trying to tell me. Sounded a bit like 'Get out.'

I wonder what he means by that.

His name is Henry, though. He's rather sweet.


	4. Cupboards and Christmas Carols

The lyrics of _God Rest Ye Merry Hippogriffs_ featured in the chapter below were **written by me**. Do **not** steal them. The lyrics of the other song mentioned have also been written, but are not featured in this chapter.

I also must apologize for the lateness of this chapter.

If you would like to see the banner I made for this story, you can view it by clicking the link on my Author Page that says _homepage_.

**Chapter Four:  
Cupboards and Christmas Carols**

**The Garden  
11:50 a.m.**

I take it back. Henry is _not_ in any way sweet.

You see, it's rather difficult to share a cramped space with someone (Something?) When they've decided to angrily knock you about for a bit.

And not just a bit, actually.

I suspected at first that the stupid blighter was going to ravage me, he came at me so quickly.

Which is disgusting.

Except for the fact that I don't think ghouls can ravage someone. Come to think of it...

Never mind. I've just made myself shudder.

Anyway, not veering off or anything...

The sodding thing started screeching at me. Or rather, it didn't screech, because ghouls can't screech (among other things). It just made this sort of loud... _sound_. Really unnatural, at least for ghouls.

I expect that Malfoy's goons have made similar noises before. Hm.

**The Garden  
11:53 a.m.**

Bloody hell! Crabbe and Goyle are half-ghoul!

**The Garden  
11:54 a.m.**

Er, anyway...

I think it started chucking stuff at me. I don't really remember. My head still hurts.

Bollocks, I just found a bruise on my leg! Or at least, there will be one now, seeing as a gnome just threw something at me. What was it, anyway?

Oh. Right. A rock.

**The Garden  
11:57 a.m.**

I think I've just killed it.

The gnome, I mean.

I don't think I should throw rocks anymore.

It could just be unconscious, though, or sleeping. I might not have even hit it after all. Perhaps it's... er... What did Hermione call it? Narf...

Narfilektic?

Narphileptick?

Oh, sod it! Perhaps it'll have woken up by the time I finish describing what happened. Because I really want to finish. You know, about the ghoul?

Right.

See, I already had to explain it once before. Except that it was the revised version, seeing as I didn't want anyone to know what I was doing inside of the cupboard in the first place.

Well, actually, no, because I couldn't really remember.

Why was I in the cupboard? I ought to have written it down before the ghoul became intent on bashing my head in.

I wonder, does a cupboard turn into a haunted cupboard once a ghoul's shacked up inside? Or did the cupboard become a haunted cupboard only after I'd got inside? This is all very perplexing. But at least I'll have loads of rubbish to ask Hermione once the hols are over. I should make a list.

Later, of course. I've got to attend to the task at hand.

That being, of course, to recount my adventures in the haunted cupboard, subtitled as my unabridged masterpiece.

That's rather catchy, actually.

_Ginny Weasley and the Haunted Cupboard: the Unabridged Masterpiece, by Ginny M. Weasley_.

Once upon a time, there was a beautiful young princess named Ginevra Weasley (but everyone called her Ginny because they didn't want their bits hexed off). She was madly in love with an excruciatingly attractive young prince named Harry Potter, who also happened to be madly in love with her as well. Unfortunately, Harry was far too ignorant of his own feelings to act on them, so poor Ginny had to content herself with pilfering his underpants from time to time while she waited for him to come around.

One day, after coming across a colony of house elves, Ginny found herself inside a cupboard. She wasn't quite sure why she was there, but supposed that she had been ferreting about for Christmas decorations or something of the sort. But the cupboard was exceptionally deep, so princess Ginny had to venture far inside.

Suddenly, the princess whirled around. There was something in there with her! She screamed bloody murder and chucked her precious diary at the wall in hopes of driving it off, but alas, it didn't work.

Quite unexpectedly, an evil monster burst out of the shadows. It had big teeth like a deranged sort of beaver, and its bugging eyes looked at her in a menacing sort of way.

"Wuurrr," it growled. It swung its arms round like a nutter.

Ginny jumped.

The monster appeared to be quite nice for a while, except for when it tried to attack her.

"Harry! Harry! Save me, Harry!" she cried dramatically.

But alas, Ginny's prince couldn't hear her, because she was too busy bravely helping his kingdom to save his true love.

Just when Ginny thought she was doomed to snuff it, the door opened (even though it was locked).

"Ginny, what on Earth are you doing in here?"

The princess felt sad. Instead of her handsome prince, it was a shabby but kind werewolf. Except that she didn't want to die, so she let the nice wolf man sweep her off her feet and carry her home.

_The End_

It's brilliant, isn't it? I mean, loads of writers meddle with the facts a bit to make things more interesting, right? Perhaps it's not quite a masterpiece, but...

Well, alright. It's complete rubbish.

Except that Lupin did find me, and now I expect he's gone to Mum to tell her that her daughter is a lunatic. And then Dad'll agree, and Harry will too, and Ron... He'll be Ron. Then when they cart me off to St. Mungo's, Mum will sob her bloody eyes out, and as they drag me down the street, Black Annis will come out of nowhere and say, "There's the Weasley girl with the addled brains that stole the underpants of the Boy-Who-Lived and locked herself in a haunted cupboard. But of course, most of that was after she imagined some house elves in a nonexistent forest."

I fancy I might be a Seer.

**The Gnome Graveyard  
12:41 p.m.**

I've got to bury the gnome I didn't exactly intentionally murder. I suspect that, if it wasn't dead, it would have already wandered off by now.

I thought it might've wanted to come after me.

That's why I put my feet up on the bench. I didn't really fancy getting all bloodied up.

But now, I'm rather sure it's not going to wake up, so I've got to conduct a proper burial for the little bugger.

I mean, I'm sure I won't be taken away by dementors. (Healers are preferable.)

Er, right?

Well, in any case, I'd best destroy the evidence.

**The Gnome Not-So-Graveyard  
?**

BLOODY SODDING MERLIN ON A STICK!

The wretched little beast was still alive!

I was feeling rather forlorn that I'd killed something. Funny how that happens.

But th

**The Kitchen  
1:15 p.m.**

I didn't think Mum would come searching for me, bless her. Turns out that it's lunchtime. She hasn't mentioned the cupboard, so I suppose Lupin hasn't told her about it yet.

At least, I hope so.

Mum made soup again.

Of course, it would have been better if Phlegm wasn't here.

Hold on, where's Bill?

Spiffing. They aren't inseparable after all.

Oh bugger. There's Lupin. I'll just pretend I haven't spotted him.

**A figment of your imagination (the kitchen, technically)  
1:17 p.m.**

"Hello, Ginny." He's just said hello. Oh Merlin, don't let him mention

"You haven't locked yourself up in any more cupboards, I hope?"

Now he's grinning. I suppose I should say something.

"Not today, Professor." I feel like an idiot, because I'm certainly smiling like one. Phlegm has this really peculiar look on her face.

Not that I'm not ignoring her, or anything. It's just that she's always so conspicuous.

I wonder why?

I'm not actually wondering anything, mind you. Even though I've been doing so rather often lately. And that's not to say Phlegm is occupying my thoughts, either. (In case you might have interpreted it that way.)

That's Bill's problem, not mine.

I happen to not let my mind think of anything that isn't attractive.

Meaning, (It was crudely put.), that Harry spends a lot of time in my head.

Oh, right. I've forgotten about Lupin.

"Well, that's always good to hear." I think he might have said this a while ago.

"Geenevra, what iz zees zat you are writing?"

Er, nothing.

"Er, nothing."

"Of course eet eez not! I 'ave seen you with zees leetle book all week!"

Even Lupin looks mildly interested now. Damn her.

"I'm, er..."

Think, Ginny! THINK!

"It's, ah... Just some notes."

Notes? Oh bother.

"For my, er..."

"Charms essay, isn't that what you told me earlier?" That was Lupin. He's now my bloody hero.

"Oh." Fleur's face is falling. Perhaps the rest of her will shortly follow, and she'll leave me.

Us.

In peace.

Mum is walking in, and Lupin just winked at me. I'm pretending not to notice, because I don't want Phlegm to pick up on anything. Except that I can't help but grin, though I'm stifling it a bit with my napkin.

You know, the table feels relatively empty. Come to think of it, I haven't seen the boys all day. Where are they? They can't just keep disappearing like this, it's unnerving. Even Mum looks somewhat worried. They can't be playing Quidditch, I would've noticed when I was still outside.

"Remus, have you seen Harry and the boys? They were supposed to be back an hour ago." Mum.

"I'm sorry, Molly, I can't say that I have. Would you like me to look for them?"

"Oh, no. I'm sure they'll turn up. And you'll be wanting a bite to eat."

Mum can be peculiar at times. It's rightly obvious that she wants someone to bring them home, wherever they are. She won't say it, though. Adults don't do that sort of thing, I've discovered. Especially Mum.

Well, if Lupin won't go, then perhaps I shall.

**The Attic  
7:48 p.m.**

Why the _bloody hell_ did I make such a _bloody_ long paper _bloody_ chain?

I left it on Harry's bed, (I hadn't meant to, I just never came back), but he must have moved it, because it was in an enormous and despondent heap in the corner. Still is, actually, seeing as I haven't touched it yet. Not only is it more vast than I expected (remembered), but there could be a whole manner of things living beneath it.

It's good to be cautious (sometimes). That's why I'm still alive (mostly).

**The Attic  
7:50 p.m.**

The pile smells like paste. In fact, it's practically toxic.

I wonder if Harry and Ron really did sleep in here last night. I don't know where else they would've gone, but it's quite horrible in here.

**My Room  
8:00 p.m.**

I've just transported my paper chains into my room.

The logic behind it being that the foul smell of paste will drive away Phlegm, my unwanted room-mate. Company, more like.

I am brilliant, which explains my madness.

**My Room  
8:05 p.m.**

I can't breathe.

**The Kitchen  
8:08 p.m.**

It's too dark to go outside.

**Fred and George's Room  
8:24 p.m.**

I have decided that F and G's room is the best place to be. For the most part, this is because they haven't come home yet. Lupin and I couldn't find them.

Oh, wait.

I haven't mentioned that part yet, have I?

Well, as I suspect I put down before, (Ah yes, there it is.), Lupin offered to go out and track down Harry, Ron, the twins, and whomever else, but Mum wouldn't have it. It went on like that for a while, until I decided I couldn't tolerate it any longer.

"I'll go, Mum," I offered brightly. She looked startled.

"But Ginny, dear, you'll catch cold in the snow. Won't she, Remus?" Mum looked at him for some sort of support, I suppose. She completely disregarded Fleur.

Er, Phlegm, I mean.

"Actually, that might be a good idea," he told her, which was most surprising. "In fact, I'll even go along to make sure she doesn't encounter any trouble. Merlin knows I need to stretch my legs."

Or something similarly as impressive.

So without further ado, Mum ushered us to the door, badgering me about my scarf in a defeated sort of way. I really don't like it when she looks like that. Makes her seem deflated, or something. It's dampened even Fred and George's spirits before, and that isn't easily done. Miracles happen, though.

Anyway, Lupin and I walked for a while without seeing anyone or anything, except for trees and snow, of course. In fact, it appeared to have snowed since I had last been outside.

Sneaky stuff.

It was pretty, though, and there were a few snowflakes still falling in certain places. It's always the slow ones you've got to love.

(I suppose I might mean that in more ways than one.)

I was beginning to worry a bit that we might be getting lost. I mean, I certainly don't want to repeat yesterday's events. At least we weren't in a forest.

Oh, and I wasn't alone, of course.

But then all of a sudden, I got this really brilliant idea. (Again.) See, I like a reprieve from the chatter of the boys, but honestly, absolute silence is something I can't stand. Especially when I'm with someone.

Well, I wasn't with someone, you know...

But I expect that if I was, it would have been superior in... awkwardness.

(There's another for the list.)

So as this weeny little town... village sort of thing came into view, I asked Lupin if he knew any Christmas carols. I expect we'll want to go caroling this year, like we used to do when I was...

I don't know.  
_Little_.

Of course, that tradition is now rather broken, seeing as we stopped ages ago. So I never learned the words to anything. (I wasn't ever much help, seeing as all I could do was nibble on my thumbs and squawk when Fred and George tried to reach the higher notes of the songs.) I'd forgotten about it until round last year, when we spent the holidays at Grimmauld Place.

Because that's when Sirius was singing _God Rest Ye Merry Hippogriffs_.

Merlin, it's quiet without him.

I reckon that's why I wasn't surprised when Lupin, after smiling to himself as we trudged along, started to sing the precise carol I was thinking of.

Well, maybe I was a bit surprised.

More, probably, at his deep but pleasant singing voice. If Harry had been there, I don't think he would have needed my help in falling over into the snow.

**F and G's Room  
8:52 p.m.**

Here, I've found it! I had him write down the words for me. I'll copy them down here:

_God Rest Ye Merry Hippogriffs_

God rest ye merry hippogriffs  
Let nothing you dismay  
The fire is lit, the parcels wrapped  
And put out on display  
The mistletoe is hung above,  
The nargles chased away  
O tidings of magic and joy  
Magic and joy  
O tidings of magic and joy

In the paddock, just outside  
Slumbers a unicorn  
The snowflakes fall upon his head  
And gather round his horn  
He graces this home for the night  
And can merit no scorn  
O tidings of magic and joy  
Magic and joy  
O tidings of magic and joy

From the kitchen wafts a smell  
Attractive without blame  
Of pies and tarts and cinnamon  
And slowly roasting game  
The house elves scurry all about  
The children do the same  
O tidings of magic and joy  
Magic and joy  
O tidings of magic and joy

Fear not of kneazles underfoot  
Or pixies low in flight  
That pull your ears and stub your toes  
When let out of your sight  
Tonight, up they are curled as one  
Basking in firelight  
O tidings of magic and joy  
Magic and joy  
O tidings of magic and joy

The clear glass of the window pane  
Has intricate designs  
Which, traced upon its cold surface  
Can often bring to mind  
The frozen surface of a pond  
And needles of a pine  
O tidings of magic and joy  
Magic and joy  
O tidings of magic and joy

And when inside, the wondrous feast  
On the table is lain  
The guests all are gathered at once  
And they cannot refrain  
From raising their golden goblets  
In unanimous praise  
O tidings of magic and joy  
Magic and joy  
O tidings of magic and joy

Now fly above the town this eve  
Leave behind not a trace  
Of worries or of fretful times  
That might have plagued this place  
For Christmas brings a warmth to us  
And this we must embrace  
O tidings of magic and joy  
Magic and joy  
O tidings of magic and joy

It's rather long.

Which makes it even more astonishing that he knows the whole lot of it.

But I reckon Lupin knows almost everything.

Funny, there must be one in every generation somewhere.

Or more.

**Still here  
8:54 p.m.**

Does that mean there are more Remus Lupins and Hermione Grangers scurrying about the world?

**F and G's Room  
8:55 p.m.**

Lupin knew the words to _Malfoy Child Lullaby_, (which was rather morbid).

But then again, he said that it used to be _Black Child Lullaby_, and Sirius' Mum used to sing it to him. (What a lovely bird she was.) The Malfoys stole it later and changed the words a bit. Think they're quite clever, we suspect.

We also suspect it might have started out as _Pureblood Child Lullaby_, but not even Lupin knows that.

Anyway, we found Harry, Ron, and Bill soon enough. Seems they were having a snowball fight.

Oh, yeah. Remember how I mentioned that miracles happen?

Well, they can.

Because they asked me to join their snowball fight.

I was paired with Bill, because Ron wouldn't give up Harry. Ignorant, that one is. Though I reckon he wouldn't have given up Harry either way. Perhaps he's just protective.

Well, I _know_ that.

But you're not really protecting your little sister from your best mate when said best mate is chucking handfuls of snow at her.

Maybe that's just my logic, though.

And I suppose Harry didn't have much of a chance to throw stuff at me, seeing as Bill gets rather violent and competitive. Protective, too, though I don't think that's got anything to do with our victory.

Not at all.

Besides, Bill only gets this way in the winter.

Hm.

Phlegm ought to have come. She might've been so frightened that she would have called off the wedding.

Lupin just sort of watched us, humming to himself. I think he wanted to join in with us, so I tossed a snowball at him for good measure.

**The hallway outside Fred and George's room  
9:01 p.m.**

I reckon I just heard the front door opening.

**My Room  
9:04 p.m.**

Mum's shouting.

Fred and George must be home.


End file.
